


Masks

by iamhighondumbbitchjuice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, M/M, Masquerade Ball, One Shot, POV Harry Potter, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamhighondumbbitchjuice/pseuds/iamhighondumbbitchjuice
Summary: Harry Potter gets asked by an anonymous, masked Slytherin, to go to the Yule ball with them.And of course he says yes.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 194





	Masks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! this work has not been viewed by my beta, so naturally it probably will have some mistakes, sorry, don't be afraid to point them out!  
> Enjoy!

Harry’s spirits were crushed as Cho Chang told him that she already had been asked for the Yule ball _and_ that, ultimately, she had said yes. 

He was pondering this over as he was making his way back to the Gryffindor common room, he had purposely taken a long route back, not ready to face his housemates just yet. The Yule ball was a masquerade ball this year and practically all of his housemates - with the exception of Ron that is - already had a partner _and_ their masks at the ready. 

Harry might have slain a dragon, yes, but asking out girls _or_ boys, for that matter, was harder, way harder.

“Harry!” a voice called from behind, childlike enthusiasm shining through in its tone.

“Nigel?!” Harry questioned as he recognised the voice, he didn’t know a good reason for the boy to be so frantically looking for him, even better, he didn’t know _any_ reason for Nigel to be looking for him let alone a good one. 

Nigel ran towards him, out of breath and panting. “I ran all the way here from the dungeons,” he breathed. 

“Right,” Harry said, still confused as to why Nigel was telling him this. 

“And I’ve come here to… ” He paused to pant a little more. “to… ”

“To what Nigel?” Harry asked, urging the boy to get to the point. 

“To ask you to the Yule ball,” he eventually spilled out in one long breath. 

“What?!” Harry said loudly, not quite understanding and not quite sure what to do with himself. “I’m sorry Nigel but I don’t think-”

“No-o I don’t mean for me, no, erm, Blaise told me to ask you,” Nigel said, while going red and rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

“Zabini?” Harry asked and only continued when Nigel nodded in confirmation. “Zabini wants to go to the ball with me?”

Nigel began to shake his head frantically. “No,” he said. “No, he was asking for someone else, Blaise said that the person was too afraid to ask you themselves, he also said that you would find out who it was on the night of the Yule ball, if you accept that is.” He seemed to think things over in his head, as if checking that he said everything that Zabini had told him to say. 

“Are you sure that I’m the right person?” Harry asked, still confused, but slightly relieved that Zabini hadn’t, in fact, meant to ask him. Who in Slytherin could be in their right mind to want to ask Harry? They all hated him. Who could it possibly be? Parkinson? Bulstrode? A shudder went through him as he briefly considered Goyle to be an option. Maybe it was someone from a lower year?

“Oh yeah,” Nigel said nodding. “quite sure, Blaise couldn’t have meant anyone else really.”

“Great,” Harry said, still feeling a bit incredulous. This was strange to say the least. 

“So,” Nigel said, tone nervous, as if he was a messenger afraid to be killed. “What’s your answer?”

Harry considered his options: he had told Ron that he would have a date by the time he got back to the common room today, and seeing that all the girls in Gryffindor had already been asked he felt that he might as well, seeing that the person who asked him couldn’t possibly be worse than Zabini. He might as well say yes, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Or maybe it would and if that was the case he would at least get a good story to tell at some campfire in the far away future. 

“Well erm, okay, I think.”

Nigel grinned widely, his teeth showing in the process. “I’ll go tell him then,” he said as he started running back towards the dungeons, his feet hitting the floor hard.

Harry shook his head, trying to properly register what just happened and started to, yet again, walk back to the common room, only this time, with completely different thoughts than before. 

\--

“Are you barking mad Harry?!” Ron yelled as they were sitting in the great hall the next morning. “You’re going to the Yule ball, with a Slytherin?!” The hall had gone strangely quiet and Harry wasn’t surprised to see that most people were either looking at Ron for his outburst or at Harry. Even the Slytherin table had gone quiet and Harry could see Zabini smirking at his victory.

“Yes Ronald,” Hermione hissed. “I think Harry made that fairly clear with the words: ‘I’m going to the Yule ball with a Slytherin.’” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Now the rest of the school knows as well, congrats.”

Ron seemed to barely hear her as he was still unflinchingly staring at Harry. His eyes locked on him with a stare of complete confusion. “I mean mate,” he eventually said, voice softer than before. “I managed to ask Lavender last minute, but if you want we can look for someone else for you to go with, I’m sure there’s _someone_ still available for you.” Ron’s gaze was filled with pity now, almost overwhelming Harry with the intensity of it. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks Ron, but really, it’s fine, I already said I would go.”

“You’re truly overreacting Ron,” Hermione said from his left. “It’s a masquerade ball, Harry may not even recognise them _besides_ not all Slytherins are bad per say, you know. As long as Harry’s not stuck with _Malfoy_ , I think we’ll be fine.”

“Mhm,” Ron said, gaze still incredulous and pinned on Harry. “right. Totally. The next thing you know, we’re all dating Slytherins and I’ll be dating Parkinson.”

“What’s wrong with dating people from other houses?” Neville asked from the opposite side of the table as people around the hall started going back to chattering amongst each other, some still throwing sneaky glances at Harry. 

Ron held his head desperately in his hands. “Nothing Neville, nothing at all, except, this is _Slytherin_ we’re talking about here!”

Neville shrugged. “It’s just a house innit?”

Ron seemed out of breath: he was red and panting. “Just a-just a-,” he started before following his not finished sentence up by laughing almost manically and throwing his hands up in the air. 

\--

“So, the golden boy goes to the ball with one of us, the wicked ones, how interesting.” Zabini stood before Harry, grinning like a shark. “Have you already got your mask ready Potter?” he asked as he circled Harry like a predator measuring its prey up.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business Zabini,” Harry said, sighing and beginning to slightly regret his decision of saying yes. 

Somehow Zabini’s grin grew. “Oh,” he said. “but it very much is, you see, my friend, the one who wanted me to ask you, doesn’t quite admit it, but we all know that they’re actually very excited. I just wanted to check, for them of course, if you’ve already got everything in order.”

Instead of Harry getting the option to answer Zabini with another snide remark, it was _Malfoy_ of all people who spoke up. “Blaise.” It sounded like a warning. 

Zabini turned to face Malfoy and smiled a seemingly innocent smile. In how many ways could the bastard possibly smile? And why did they all somehow seem cunning?

“Fine _my friend_ , I’ll shut up,” Zabini was addressing Malfoy before turning to Harry yet again. “I’ll leave you alone now Harry, see you at the ball, don’t forget your mask!” 

As soon as Zabini was done talking he was dragged away by a rather angry Malfoy. 

_Bloody hell_ , Harry thought as he walked back to the Gryffindor common room. Tomorrow was the ball and he, in fact, did not have a mask yet. _For Malfoy to be so angry at Zabini for even mentioning my date, the person in question must be rather close to Malfoy._ Harry wondered about the identity of his secret date the rest of his way back, never settling on one option. 

\--

“You two are positively hopeless,” Ginny said as she saw Ron and Harry standing in front of an empty basket, that previously, had contained masks. “I just knew that you two idiots weren’t going to buy yourself some proper masks before they were all gone. It’s the bloody night right before the ball, and you only go looking _now_.”

“Well,” Ron said, shrugging. “It could’ve been worse, we could’ve gone looking tomorrow night, five minutes before the ball.”

“Yeah,” Hermione said, skeptically looking up from her book. “And the only reason you didn’t is because Harry was reminded by _Zabini_ of all people.”

Ron was just about to open his mouth to say something in return, but was quickly shut up by Ginny. “Don’t Ron, we all know it’s going to sound stupid, whatever you were going to say. Here,” she said as she tossed two objects in their direction. “Be happy that I thought of you morons last minute.”

“Thanks Gin,” Harry said grinning broadly as he recognised two masks lying in front of him. 

Ron’s mouth was still opened in offense until Harry nudged him with his elbow. “Yeah,” Ron said through gritted teeth. “Thanks Ginny.”

“S’fine, now you two can fight over which mask is going to be worn by who.” Ginny nudged Hermione with her elbow, just like Harry had done with Ron moments before. “This is going to be fun.”

As Harry looked more closely at the masks he could see that the detail on them differed greatly: one was decorated with gold and red, a lion standing proudly between the holes for the eyes, golden leaves curling around the lion’s body as it roared; the other one, however, was decorated with green and silver, a snake carefully navigating in a figure of eight between the eyes, its tongue slipping out viciously while silver branches were positioned around it. 

Ron and Harry looked at each other at the same time, horrified, both immediately reaching for the same one of the two masks, as the laughter of Ginny and Hermione rang through the common room. 

Truthfully speaking, both masks were beautiful, but naturally neither of them was ever going to admit it, this was a matter of principle.

\--

“At least it matches your eyes,” Ron said smugly about Harry”s mask, as he wrapped his own lion mask around his head, tying the red strings together in a knot. They were getting ready for the ball and Harry’s nerves were dancing around in his stomach.

“Well,” Harry said, tying his snake mask around his head in the same manner. “your robes really do match your hair, I’m sure Lavender will love them.” 

Ron immediately looked pained. “Bloody hell Harry, what am I going to do? I look like my great aunt Tessie!” He sniffed his robes briefly. “And I smell like her too!”

Harry couldn’t help but snicker at Ron’s unfortunate practically ancient robes, earning him a desperate glare from Ron. “I’m sorry Ron, but look at it this way, no matter how ghastly your date’s dress may look, you'll always outshine her and hopefully it will comfort her to know that she could never go more wrong in her outfit than you already have.”

Another glare from Ron. “Thanks Harry really, I hope you get eaten by your Slytherin date.”

“Will do,” Harry answered laughing. “I hope that you will give your date much comfort tonight.”

“Guys! We-” Ginny came barging through the door but stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted Ron. “Don’t you look just pretty Ronald!”

“Oh piss off, all of you,” Ron said, crossing his arms in front of his chest in a frustrated gesture. 

“Afraid not,” Ginny said, fake seriousness taking over her features. “The ball starts in five minutes, the great hall is waiting younglings!”

“Mcgonagall doesn’t say ‘younglings’,” Ron supplied drily, catching onto what Ginny was trying to do. 

“In my mind she does, now chop chop, the ball is waiting!”

Ginny ushered them both out the common room hastily and kept following them until they were well down to the great hall, before joining Neville as his date.

“Ah Ron! There you are!” Lavender came running towards them as soon as they set foot in the already overflowingly busy hall, her lilac dress waving around her legs as she ran and an equally purple mask in front of her face. “Interesting choice of robes.”

“Not you too!” Ron cried out. 

Lavender clearly chose to ignore this remark as she directed herself at Harry. “Have you already found out who your date is? We’re all very curious.” She winked at her last sentence and Harry decided that he didn’t even want to know who she meant with ‘we’. 

“No idea,” Harry said, shrugging. “They haven’t shown.”

Lavender arched one perfectly tamed brow, all the while still ignoring Ron, who was groaning and plucking at his robes beside her. “Well they better hurry up then, you’ve got to dance soon.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, confused. 

Lavender stared at him for a moment, as if measuring if he was taking the piss. “The opening dance? All the champions of the triwizard tournament have to open the dance with their partner by means of a waltz? Mcgonagall told us like three weeks ago.”

Harry and Ron shared an alarmed glance. “Well,” Ron said. “your Slytherin date better hurry indeed, otherwise we might have a problem.“

Harry was just about to answer when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. 

It was Zabini. 

Of course it was Zabini. 

The smirking bastard seemed to be everywhere.

“Well it took a lot of convincing but I managed to get your mystery date to _not_ bail on you.” Zabini leaned in closer. “Maybe even a few threats were involved.”

“Then where's my damned date Zabini? I don’t see them anywhere do you?!”

Zabini _smirked_. “Oh yes, I do.” And then he stepped aside to reveal…

The man behind Zabini really was breathtaking, even though his mask allowed Harry to see practically nothing of his face, the mask still perfectly carved out the man’s high cheekbones and piercing grey eyes that Harry seemed to recognise vaguely but not enough to properly place. The man was also tall and lythe, pretty in an almost feminine way. 

“As far as mystery dates go,” Harry could feel Lavender’s warm breath in his ear and saw the man’s eyes narrow slightly as this sight. “that’s not a bad one,” she finished as she went to stand at Ron’s side again. 

The beginning music of a waltz slowly started up and people in the hall began stirring.  
“Quick!” Lavender hissed while waving for Harry’s mystery date to come closer. “On the dance floor! Now!” She practically pushed both of them onto the dance floor when the man had reluctantly come over to where they were standing. 

“May I?” Harry asked his date, in a perfect reenactment of what Mcgonagall had taught him, while extending his hand. 

“Always.” The voice of the man was, again, recognisable, but it was soft and careful in a way that Harry hadn’t heard before. 

Harry smiled broadly and took his hand into his, pulling the man towards the middle of the dance floor, and let his grin grow even wider at the slight red blush on the pale cheeks of the stranger. 

Harry softly wrapped his other hand around the man’s waist while twirling him around. 

“So,” Harry started, as the waltz progressed. “what should I call you?”

“Call me whatever you want,” the stranger said, his tone still soft, shy almost. The man was seemingly more comfortable hiding behind his mask.

“What if I can’t think of anything?” Harry whispered. 

The stranger rolled his eyes behind his mask. “Just call me Dorian then, we’ll see about my real name later.” 

“Okay, Dorian,” Harry said, softly smiling. “Is that a promise for me to hear about your real name then?”

“Later,” Dorian said, laughter in his eyes. “First let’s talk about your mask, Slytherin huh?”

“Yeah, I was a bit too late with picking one, but, between you and me,” Harry plucked up some of his Gryffindor courage and leaned in a bit closer. “I was almost sorted into Slytherin,” he whispered before leaning back. 

“Really?” ‘Dorian’ asked, seeming genuinely curious and maybe a tiny bit skeptical. 

“Mhm, yeah, the sorting hat really wanted to, said I could accomplish great things there. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I was actually placed there.”

“I mean yes, it does make one wonder,” Dorian sounded interested but somewhere in his voice was another emotion audible: sadness maybe? 

Harry twirled Dorian around in a circle, copying the other dancers on the floor. As he looked around he saw that more people had joined the dance: Ginny winked at him while dancing with Neville, Hermione was softly smiling at Victor Krum while he held her hand surprisingly gently, and even Ron and Lavender were spotted dancing, even though Ron looked rather uncomfortable and kept shooting glances at Hermione. 

“Useless aren’t they?” Dorian whispered in front of Harry. “I mean everyone here can see that Weasley is jealous, he should’ve asked her, instead of waiting.” Dorian’s tone was calm, tinged with a hint of incredulity. 

Harry lifted his brows in surprise. “You think that Ron is jealous?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I know what it feels like.” Dorian seemed to frown underneath his mask, but made his frown dissolve before Harry could look at it for too long. 

“You know-,” Harry started before getting cut off by loud banging music and people yelling. 

Harry let go of Dorian in surprise as he looked at everyone around him bursting into laughter and excited dances. He let out a loud, surprised laugh, breathing in the exhilarated atmosphere in the room, next to him he caught Dorian’s grey eyes looking at him in wonder as if in awe because of Harry’s _laugh_. 

Harry softly took Dorian’s hand into his and as he sung along to the swelling music, Dorian wrapped his hand tightly around Harry’s as if trying to imprint the feeling into his mind. 

They sung and danced until their feet hurt and their throats were sore. Harry felt free for the first time in a really long time, his hand still tightly held by Dorian. The way Dorian smiled: soft and full of wonder made Harry’s heart soar and even though he couldn’t quite place if it was because of the warm energy of the evening, because of the hand in his or maybe even both: Harry felt happy.

“Who are you?” Harry asked the stranger next to him, voice filled with awe and genuine curiosity. 

“Someone you know too well,” the stranger answered, sadness filling up the edges of his voice

“Why won’t you show me who you are?” 

“Because you won’t like it. Because you will never look at me the same. Because I’m scared.”

“Zabini told me that I would find out who you were tonight,” Harry said, smirking slightly as he leaned in closer to the stranger.

“Did he now?” The stranger said leaning in closer to Harry as well. 

And for a moment, Harry forgot what they were talking about as his gaze slid downward, straight to the stranger’s lips. Harry wasn’t really thinking as he placed his hand onto ‘Dorian’s’ face and softly, so softly that it barely counted, kissed him. 

Dorian gasped lightly and touched his lips as if savoring the lingering feeling of Harry’s lips there. Slowly he looked up at Harry in surprise and gently, oh so gently, put his own delicate hand onto Harry’s face. He leaned in just like Harry had done just moments before and kissed Harry, Dorian’s kiss, compared to Harry’s, however, was harder, as if desperate, almost as if he knew that he wasn’t going to get a chance like this again. 

Dorian pulled away way too soon. 

Sadness glazed over Dorian’s eyes for a moment and not long after he suddenly turned around and began leaving the hall, pushing people aside in a hurry to get away from Harry. 

Naturally Harry followed him, he rushed past various dancing people who all shrieked when they were pushed aside in Harry’s run. “Sorry!” Harry yelled. 

The only thing Harry heard that kept him on Dorian’s trail was the faint swish sound that his robes made as he ran through the masses. As soon as they were out of the big mass of sweating people, Harry could see a lot clearer, but sadly it also meant that Dorian would be able to run faster. 

Harry caught a glimpse of Ron uncomfortably sitting next to a tired Lavender as he chased Dorian down the halls, going left and right and left again, until suddenly, they were in the Sixth-floor boy’s bathroom. Harry stood by the door, not letting his presence be known as Dorian went to stand in front of one of the cracked mirrors and ripped off his mask in one angry gesture, he exhaustedly rubbed his hands over his face as his mask fell to the floor. A faint curse fell from the stranger’s lips, and with the hands covering the face, Harry _still_ couldn’t see who’s face belonged to the man he had danced with. 

Until the stranger removed his hands. 

“Malfoy?!” Harry called out in surprise. He had expected a lot, but it was safe to say that Malfoy wasn’t one of them. He should’ve known that it was Malfoy by the way that his hair had shimmered and those grey eyes, but there had been something so different to the Malfoy that was ‘Dorian’ than to the Malfoy he had come to know, Dorian somehow had seemed more real, more vulnerable, softer than Malfoy had ever been and Harry had liked it, a lot. 

Malfoy turned around in one sharp movement and let out a bitter laugh as he spotted Harry. “Yeah Potter it’s me, are you happy now? Now you know who I am!” Malfoy’s tone was harsh again, back to the mean bitter side of him. For some reason this struck something in Harry.

“Malfoy, don’t.”

“Don’t what?! Don’t what Potter?!” He spit Harry’s last name out as if it was a filth that the world needed to get rid of. Harry slightly shrunk in on himself at the sound. 

Harry tentatively took a step closer. “Don’t do this.”

“You hate me now don’t you?!” Malfoy asked, his voice choked up.

Harry snickered warmly. “I already hated you, you were never very nice to me. Doesn’t mean that can’t change if you would want it to.”

Malfoy’s head snapped up to face Harry. “What?”

Harry shrugged and took another tentative step closer. “I just really _did_ like you tonight, it got me thinking, maybe I like it when you’re not only mean and bitter to me. Maybe I like the vulnerable part of you.”

Malfoy’s eyes grew a bit wider and then he said, as if he couldn’t help it, “Haven’t you heard Potter? Mean and bitter are my specialities.”

Harry took a final step closer, now he was standing so close to Malfoy that he could feel his hurried breath on his neck. “Malfoy, do you really like me?” Harry asked softly. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “What are we eleven?”

“Well do you?” Harry asked again, this time more pressing. 

“Yes Potter, yes I do,” Malfoy said, vulnerability glowing softly in his eyes. 

“Well,” Harry said as he leaned in very close. “that’s settled then, let’s just see where this goes, we don’t have to put any labels on this, and we still have a _lot_ to work on, but-”

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me already you mumbling nuisance, I’ve been waiting way too long for this.”

And that Harry did. 

Until…

Harry pulled away and frowned. “A mumbling nuisance? Really?” 

Malfoy looked at Harry in a complete loss of words. “I said all of that and that’s what you took away from it? You are unbelievable Potter.”

Harry smiled against Malfoy’s lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Harry could practically _feel_ Malfoy rolling his eyes. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! If you want/have the time I would love it if you left a comment with some feedback (either positive or negative, it doesn't matter) I'm always trying to improve!! This is the first one-shot I've _ever_ made so it probably isn't the best, sorry!  
> Hopefully I'll see you again soon, and until then, goodbye :)) thank u for reading!!!  
> -Amber


End file.
